Five Times Blaine Gets Sick and One Time Kurt Figures Out Why
by LadyDivine91
Summary: Blaine, who never gets sick, suddenly starts mysteriously getting the flu over, and over, and over again, which requires Kurt to take care of him. Kurt never gets suspicious as to the reason this keeps happening. ... Maybe he should have. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


_**Notes:**_

_**This is a commission gone bad, so I've decided to start posting it and return the commissioner's money (which I've been trying to do for a bit now but since they're apparently not in the same country as me, won't let me do a straight refund. I have to pay $10 out of my own pocket to return the money, which I'm trying to arrange). This whole thing has been a poop show, let me tell you. A lot of things went wrong. But two things that rubbed me the wrong way about this is a) yes, I was taking a while to get this done. Aside from life, I had seven other commissions, all which this person was told. I even offered to return their money twice before. I was told that as long as it didn't take till the New Year they were willing to wait. That was apparently a lie. And b) they were stalking my actions on social media. You've heard me talk about this before - how someone will say "Hey, I noticed you updated this story. Why don't you update this one?" That's what I was getting. They had subscribed to me and was put out that I was doing other work that I enjoy when I had their commission to do. That automatically makes me not want to work on your project. Well, here it is. I'm putting it up in six short chapters, but the work is mine. I don't want their name attached to it. Read it. Don't read it. I really don't care. I just want it off my shoulders and off my plate so I can focus on more important stuff.**_

"I'm _dying_!" Blaine moans, arms wrapped around his stomach and rolling left and right on the sofa while Kurt tries to snatch the thermometer out of his husband's mouth.

"You're not _dying_. You're just sick. Now hold still, you big baby, while I check your temperature. Otherwise I'm going to have to do this rectally, and I'm sorry, but I'm not sure our relationship can survive that."

That comment stops Blaine's tantrum in its tracks – not because he's finally being an obedient patient, but because of the absurdity of that remark. Kurt has shoved a great many toys up Blaine's rear, but a thermometer is where he draws the line? He would love to explore the rationale behind that in greater depth but he's too busy dealing with his life being violently torn from his corporeal form.

"I _am_ dying. I feel it."

"What do you feel exactly?" Kurt pounces, grabs the thermometer from between Blaine's lips and holds it up to the light.

"I'm burning up. It feels like my blood is boiling. My whole body's on fire!"

"Yeah, well, you have fever," Kurt informs him, squinting at the red line to make sure. "But it's not all that high. What else?"

Blaine frowns at the assertion that the fever currently surging through him like lava isn't _all that high_. "Well … I'm achy. Like, all over. And my head hurts. I'm thirsty …" He continues pulling out anything he can think of when it looks like Kurt is no longer taking his peril seriously. "I could probably drink the whole ocean!"

"That wouldn't be a good idea. The saline content would definitely kill you. But congratulations! You have the flu!"

"The flu!? I can't have the flu! I got a flu shot!"

"_Yesterday_. You were probably exposed to the flu a week ago and you're just showing symptoms now. I'll call Gunther on my way to work and tell him you won't be at the diner today. And you should email your professors. See if you'll be missing anything important today at school."

"You're … you're leaving me?" Blaine sits up quickly only to regret it a second later.

"Yes, Blaine. It's just the flu. It doesn't even seem like a bad flu. You can take care of yourself."

"I can't take care of myself, Kurt! I'm suffering from a fatal disease here!"

Kurt's eyes roll hard enough to make him dizzy. "You're not going to die from the flu."

"People have died from the flu!" Blaine insists. "Google it! It's possible!"

"Yes, it's possible, but it's rare. You're healthy as a horse. I don't think it's going to happen to you."

"You don't know that! I could turn a corner in seconds! Th-there was a woman in Minnesota had the flu - seemed fine. Laid down on her sofa for a nap and never woke up!"

"Wasn't she in her eighties?" Kurt shoves his keys into his pocket and his wallet into his messenger bag. "And didn't she have, like, diabetes and a heart condition?"

"Don't know," Blaine mutters grumpily. "But why take the chance? Wouldn't it be a good idea for you to stay with me? To be on the safe side?"

"Blaine! I'm only going to be gone for three hours. Four tops! I don't think you're going to die in the next _four hours_!"

"But it feels like I am!"

"You have your cell phone. If you start seeing a bright light and distant relatives coming to greet you, call me, and I'll have Mrs. Pancetti from next door come check on you. Shoo them away."

"_Kurt_!" Blaine stares at Kurt with pleading, blood-shot eyes, and Kurt stares back - stoic, determined not to be swayed. A stand-off ensues, one Kurt doesn't have time for. In his head, he tells himself to end this ridiculousness, grab his stuff, and go. His husband is a big boy. He'll be fine. But the more Blaine stares, the more Kurt begins to feel sorry for him. Blaine doesn't usually get sick. Aside from catching a mega-cold his senior year of high school (which resulted in the infamous Tina Cohen-Chang Vapo-rape incident) Kurt can't remember the last time Blaine was truly sick.

And he doesn't seem all that sick _now_! But Kurt has had the flu before (of course). It can be deceptively mild in the beginning. If Blaine's is anything like the flus Kurt gets, he's going to be miserable. And even though he doesn't consider himself the nurturing type, there's something deep inside trying its hardest to convince Kurt to stay home and take care of his husband.

And it's winning.

Kurt checks the clock on his phone and sighs. He's cutting things close as is. If he's going to leave, he'd better do it now or else he might as well not even try. At this rate, he'll miss his connection, hit hellacious traffic, and spend close to an hour stuck on a crowded subway platform. He scrolls through his itinerary in his head – his one class and the few projects he's contributing to at _Vogue_.

Can he really afford to miss a day?

Actually, he can. For the first time in a long time, he can.

"Alright," he groans, but with the twitch of a smile on his lips. "Give me a minute, let me iron out a few things, and I'll be back to hang out with you."

"Yay!" Blaine giggles, fluffing his pillow and snuggling beneath his thick comforter.

"I'm going to go to the bedroom and get changed. Try not to die too loudly."

"This is going to be great, Kurt!" Blaine calls after him. "You'll see. I … I know I'm sick, but we can watch trash TV and play video games and …"

"Hold that thought." Kurt ducks behind the privacy curtain. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Kurt drops his bag and unzips his boots. He shoots Isabelle a text, wincing while he gives her what he feels is a thin excuse, but that's because he has his father's work ethic. No missing work unless he's caught in a fire or bleeding profusely out his head. He doesn't like bowing out on his responsibilities without giving people twenty-four hours' notice. But Blaine getting sick? Incapacitated? (That's what he tells Isabelle has happened to assuage his own guilt.) That cropped up this morning. And it's an emergency, right? Emergencies don't tend to give 24 hours' notice. So if he didn't have it, how could he give it?

Besides, it's been a long time since he's had a dedicated day off with his husband. Their schedules for the past six months have turned them into proverbial ships passing one another in the night. They share the occasional meal, get one date night every two weeks, but they've been overwhelmed by mid-year exams and double-shifts at the diner. Maybe Blaine's flu is a blessing in disguise. Sure Kurt will be playing nursemaid, but Blaine is awfully cute when he's needy. He'll cling to Kurt like a baby sloth. They'll watch TV and cuddle, Blaine's hot skin pressed against his as he feeds his husband apple sauce and they catch up on life.

He'll be missing an exciting day at _Vogue_, but this will be worth it.

"Okay, Blaine!" Kurt strips off the stylish outfit he'd chosen for the day and puts on his pajamas, rushing as he becomes more and more excited. He yanks on his socks, slides his feet into his carpet slippers, and sashays back to the living room. "Let's play _hooky_!"

But by the time he returns, Blaine is fast asleep.


End file.
